


Pomp and Circumstance

by Marexian



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, No Proofreading We Die Like Men, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:48:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22219579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marexian/pseuds/Marexian
Summary: 40, 000 men and women everyday, redefine happiness so why couldn't Dandelion?Gaining courage from his friend at a great cost he confronted his witcher. He claimed to have no fear but in reality he feared to lose it all. However, it wasn't one-sided as he thought it'd be.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 3
Kudos: 94





	Pomp and Circumstance

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this over multiple nights while sleep deprived so this is a LOT to take in, I guess. You can clown my ass for this being wack and all but here we are. I also wanted to add mroe but this fic is already way too long for my standards.

It was almost as if many weeks had past when it only had been a few. The same monotonous rhythm of voices coming from downstairs had become a background noise. No woman’s whisper or a touch would stir his heart. But he moved, he existed because he had to. Dandelion had hope to receive some news; a word or any sign from Geralt. The damned sea separated them and he was bound to the land he stood on.   
The cabaret – a thing that seemed like his entire life – had to move on despite him being void of creativity.

Priscilla had taken notice of the mood shift within the man. At the start she had said naught because she thought it would pass. However, each passing day would just prove that something was eating at him. 

“Dandelion! You’re late! The show is about to begin and you just got out of your room? Have the muses chained you down in bed or something?” the woman greeted Dandelion as he sluggishly took the steps downstairs towards the stage.   
His face became more awake at her words, perhaps part of it was a show he had to upkeep. But it wasn’t his usual self, not by a longshot.

“It’s as if you were observing me—” he jested back with a weak smile. “Muses were absolutely ruthless last night and couldn’t let me sleep.” Which was true, except he stayed up writing a letter. If Geralt wasn’t going to contact him, he would be the one to break the ice. Once and for all.

“Ahaha! Must have whipped up a masterpiece then. You will absolutely have to share it with me after we are done with the show.” The lady smiles for her voice was light as clouds but she still tried to refocus her friend at least on one task. And after that she would dig deeper into the issue.

“ I showed up right on time. It is called being efficient.” Dandelion waved his hand in the air, showing Priscilla that he was as fine as he could be.

The two only observed the show and took mental notes of things that will be improved during the next rehearsal. The blonde woman would keep an eye on the surroundings, counting guests in her head. But that was only a sidetrack from her main objective – watching over her friend. With a corner of her eye she could see that the other wasn’t exactly there, his mind wandering somewhere else.

The final claps from the audience and the collective bow of the performers ended the gathering. Some visitors stayed to have a drink or two, others dispersed, giving some space. Dandelion let out a sigh with his eyes closed and then turned to Priscilla.

“Well, that was one of our best performances so far, don’t you think? There is room for improvement but you have to give them credit. And our songs were performed well.” It seemed that his voice was back to normal, as if he had woken up.

“I’ve noted at least five places were things could have been better but let’s save that for another day. Now, I need to talk to you. Upstairs.”

“Oh? Aren’t we a little feisty today?” Dandelion sneered at the woman. “And here I thought--”

Priscilla stopped in her tracks, one feet on a stairway. It was almost as her heart stopped for her posture was still, too still. And the bard’s heart sunk low as he heavily gulped. His eyes raced from her locks to her hand holding the railing. Her hand was clenching the wooden bar hard, almost as if she was prepared to rip it out and smack Dandelion with it. But after a quiet moment the woman let out a sigh and moved upstairs.

His room’s door has been open ever so slightly. Most likely due to him needing to rush out. The open crack revealed dozens of crumbled up pieces of paper on the floor. The trobairitz slowly opened the door, her quiet feet kicking away the pieces of paper aside, making a clean path for the two. Dandelion prayed to all the gods that he won’t be questioned. While his friend found a place to sit, he remained standing near the door with his hands fidgeting.

“So, what’s this all about?” feminine voice broke the silence in the room. “You gotta tell me because I am not having you out there like that. If it’s a song you’re struggling with then why didn’t you ask me about it?! Glooming and brooding for days is not like you, Dandelion!”

It wasn’t a song nor an aria that made him restless. Even if he did try to phrase his struggles as such at the start – it did not help.

“I’m working on something big! Most wonderful ladies dancing on the stage, lutes giving the rhythm to the folk and the main songstress capturing every man’s heart with her voice--!” while he sounded convincing, his body language was stiff and that made Priscilla raise an eyebrow.

“I thought you wouldn’t go for such a theatrical approach with the rebrand…” with skepticism in her voice, the lady picked up a random paper next to her feet.

Dandelion sprung himself from the door and rushed to snatch the item but he was too late as Priscilla had begun to unwrap it. 

“Oh, oh god no, you should not be reading that. Oh gods help me, please—” he blurted out as he begun to take slow steps back, noticing her eyes scanning the draft written. Both of his hands ran down his face, hiding nervousness.  
One paper followed by another. It was as Priscilla was glued to what she was reading. Slowly, she begun feeling amused, albeit she was slightly bitter as well.

“I thought this wasn’t your first time in writing love letters. Is the great Dandelion lost for words? Who caught your eye like so? Who’s that lucky one who’s supposedly bested even me?” her legs crossed one atop the other, assuming a stance. “Or were all of these for different women and you’re back to your old ways?”

“Well—” Dandelion almost choked on his words. “I’m actually writing these in someone else’s stead, yes! You see, the poor lad does not have a way with words so he sought help. And how can I resist such a plea?”

“You wouldn’t be rewriting it so many many times then.”

“I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Must be an important person you are helping then if this gig is stuck in your head.”

The bard’s blue eyes darted towards Priscilla. Her face was cast downward at the text so she couldn’t see how his face had shifted into a bittersweet one. The person was important to him, sure, but he doubted if he was of any importance to the other party at this point. Dandelion looked down at his hands. The two were worlds apart in many senses. What was he thinking? He himself was full of compassion and before he was not afraid to show it towards everyone. But now he had only one person in his sights. And despite his lifelong experience in love, this felt like a first. And maybe he was just a little afraid of the backlash from others. While Dandelion himself was an open minded man, in that day and age he could not always say the same about others.  
Perhaps just this once gods and deities were sending him a message, a message for him to cease. Yet he wasn’t the one to completely yield to it.

“I’ve known him for a while, that’s all. Owe him some favors too. No other friend I know has saved my life as many times as he has…” he probably said too much because Priscilla caught on the clues.

The lady grinned sheepishly albeit her eyes carried a glimmer of sadness. After all, she was in love with Dandelion but she also knew when to back down. And perhaps she also sympathized with the bard who tried to catch the wolf.

“Aha—I see how it is. You are a honorable man – sometimes – after all. Although, I cannot imagine Geral—I mean your friend asking for such favors.” 

Dandelion stood there speechless. He took a deep breath in as his eyes closed for a moment, then they fluttered back into action and focused on the guest. The man dropped all the jests and masks; something one would rarely see from him. Given with whom he was talking, he couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry.

“Dandelion, you do not have to pretend in front of me. I know.” Priscilla reassured as she stood up and took a step to the other. “And if you are concerned about me – fret not! I can do naught after all. Well, except to help your sorry arse and kick it into motion because you’re getting nowhere glooming like that!” Her chin rose up, making light shine on her smiling lips. “I wonder if I should write a ballad about you two, hm..?”

“That is NOT happening!” he was adamant on doing this on his own no matter what. It is already foolish that she got involved. “Listen… I appreciate your helo, if you could call this it, but I will deal with this myself. One way or another.”

“…you sound like you want to run away from your feelings. That isn’t like you.”

“For all the good reasons, no? Just think about it. I always get into trouble and I can only guess how many times Geralt wanted to just tell me to piss off.”

“But has he?” the trobaritz arched an eyebrow in question.

“I bet he doesn’t want to come back even. Not even a letter—”

“Can you listen to me for a moment?” her arms crossed on her chest before speaking further. 

“Everyone knows that you can be a pain but also no one is chained to you or anything. Especially a man like our witcher friend there. He’s a free spirit, more than us, and he can turn into smoke at any point. But think about it: you’ve known him for a long time and has he ever abandoned you? Doesn’t he come back? All of your friends come back to you! Stop trying to push them away. Because, I swear, one day it will be true. And you will regret it.”

Silence befell the room as the bard took his time to soak in the thoughts presented to him. She was right: no one would be around him if they didn’t like him. And Geralt wasn’t the one who would play pretend, especially for such a long time. Perhaps it was time for Dandelion to stop looking at himself so much and look at the others.

His face softening indicated that some semblance of hope had returned to him. Hesitance was still there but he had to take the shot. If anything – there were plenty of distractions around him to remedy that.

“Were you always so good with words?” his voice bore some lightness in it.

“Same as you - pure talent for such things. Now put yours to use and finish what you had started. In the meanwhile, I’ll be going but should you need me – you know where to find me.”

“No, I absolutely do not. But I’ll definitely hear of you.” The man jested as he moved aside from the door, giving room for his friend to go past and leave.

“Ahaha—” Priscilla laughed softly as she moved out to the corridor, back facing the man. “Maybe, maybe not. But I trust you to visit me sometimes.” Her breath became sharper as a tear rolled down her cheek. “Take care, Dandelion.”  
The door closed behind her with heavy weight. But it wasn’t the wood that was heavy to move. Rather, it was the air that Priscilla carried with her, and it didn’t bode well. But Dandelion decided to be selfish and didn’t chase after. He had to sort out his life before he could go after others’.

The bard snapped out of a daze and looked around, realizing how grim the room looked. He meticulously picked up each crumpled up paper and unfolded it. The stack of paper grew of the desk, forming a considerable pile. His blue eyes were filled with words written on the papers. Each and every line was different, carrying a different tone. He had thought of laying everything out in a letter and hoping for the best but...

that would be cowardice. Confrontation was the key. He just had to summon Geralt back here even if it was just for a day. If only he had a power to pull him there. To hold him close—No, too soon for such thoughts. 

The Trial of Passion was upon them.

\------------------------------------------------

The letter reached Geralt, faster than usual thanks to some monetary pushes there and there. It was short and to the point. While it only requested for the witcher to stop by Novigrad as soon as he could, it was the style of writing that worried him. Time was of the essence, however, Geralt could not ignore the letter.

Days spent traveling back finally lead the white wolf back into the cursed city he bore no likeness to, save for one tavern that is. City Guard still kept their watchful eye on the witcher as he rode Roach through the gates in a fast pace. Turning around the corner of Rosemary and Thyme – as Geralt still remembered it as – made him slow down in caution, however, nothing noteworthy was happening. 

“Slow down, Roach.” His low voice commanded the horse as he tugged on the lead to halt her. He jumped down to the ground and pet her before moving towards the door.  
He listened into the sounds but noticed nothing suspicious. His sharp hearing even managed to distinguish Dandelion’s voice among the others.

Armored hand opened the wooden door wide, giving a full view into the room. There were many people of varying social status. Zoltan quickly noticed the arrived quest and rose a hand in greeting and Geralt nodded back. As much as he wished to hold a chat with the dwarf, his eyes scoured around for Dandelion. Usually, he isn’t hard to find with his over the top garbs but at that moment he wasn’t around. The witcher let out a sigh and shook his head, then approached the dwarven friend.

“Ah, Geralt! I thought you were going to ignore me. Say, what business do you have back here? I thought you were following Ciri’s trail still.” Zoltan spoke as joyous as ever.

“I was. But Dandelion sent me this letter. It’s not like him to write everything in few words unless there’s an urgency. Do you know where he is?” Geralt’s voice didn’t sway much despite him being worried.

“Hm… He didn’t tell me anything about it. Strange… I do recall him saying that he was off to the bath house. Might wanna check there.”

“I hope he didn’t get into trouble again. He should know better than to deal with Dijkstra.” Witcher’s eyebrow’s furrowed. He begun thinking of the worst.

“No, nothing like that! He isn’t that stupid to run into trouble. Or so I would love to believe. Anyway, our lad went there to relax a little bit. He seemed off lately, so probably for the best. You might wanna leave your stuff upstairs before you go, though.” The shorter man pointed towards the staircase. “Room’s ready for you. I suppose our bard was expecting you.”

Geralt pondered for a while if he should. All of this just seemed to good to be true. But he decided to trust the information given and moved upstairs. 

The room was tidy; standards were upkept there no matter what. The white haired man placed his swords next to the door and then slumped down onto the bed. A hand ran down his face; he was tired from all the hasty travelling but also he had myriad if guesses why was he called here. Although, none were close to the truth he would face. After winding down for a while, he stepped downstairs, thanked Zoltan and went towards the bath house.

He truly did not wish to return there for the people and for the memories. Or ar least he did not want to spend more than a second required to be there. As soon as the wide doors opened, Happen popped up with his book in hand. With a swift motion, the pages were opened. Geralt managed to take a peek at the names and saw his friends name written there. However, he did not barge in and went through civil manners. 

“Ah, a guest of surprise.” Happen spoke first, his voice carrying a sophisticated tune. “Do you have business today? Although…” the man flipped through a couple of pages in his book and upon not finding Geralt’s name there, he questioned further. “Urgent matters perhaps?”

“Personal matters.” A short and secretive answer barely escaped the witcher. His cold gaze was revealing no more either. “Now, may I get in or not?”

“But of course. Please go right ahead. I shall lead you to the changing corner.” A book larger than two of Happen’s palms closed shut and was pressed to his chest. 

The two of them walked in unison. Geralt was trying to peer beyond the wooden partition into the bathing hall to see if his friend was still around and that this was not a waste. He was lead into space where he could leave his armor behind and waltz into the open space with only a bathing towel hugging his hips. The stride he carried as he walked into the bathing hall was noticed by many. The scars all around his body sure attracted some gazes from men and women both. However, some of those gazes were anxious ones; If Geralt of Rivia was around, it usually meant bad business. But the witcher heeded none of those reactions. His legs carried him further in the space, into more private baths. One of them was being used by a few women who seemed to chat with someone in particular. There was only one guess that Geralt could take and even then it wasn’t hard.

In a slow pace he approached the bath. While Dandelion was having his fun with attention he got, it was quickly interrupted as soon as a corner of his eye caught a glimpse of that silver hair. The bard’s instinct to hide kicked in even if there was no serious reason.

“Quick, hide me!” Dandelion prompted to the ladies, however, not only did they looked at him funny, it was also too late.  
Geralt stood in front of the bath, the women stared at him but his sight was focused only on the other man who was barely peaking out of the water. Wide eyes like a fawn’s were blinking faster than usual, heartbeat picked up as well and Dandelion would only curse himself should he be confronted.

“I need to talk to this man.” Low, raspy voice made a request towards the strangers. They only looked at each other, then at the two men suspiciously but in the end they left without much of a question.

Dandelion watched the ladies leave him alone for that was the worst possible course the fate could have taken him. He slowly emerged from the water and sat properly, expecting for the other to join him.

“I see you keep yourself busy.” The white wolf broke the silence between them. “Shouldn’t have expected more—”

"Well, you know: they come to me seeking attention and I give it to them! Who am I to spare a good word for such women? For example, one of them was a fan of mine and just wanted to—”

“That’s just like you.”

For some reason, Dandelion’s cheeks blushed in a bright red colour. Must have been the heat, he thought to himself. But that wasn’t exactly the case. He also couldn’t help but wonder whether that was a compliment or not but judging from Geralt’s expression, it did seem like one. Or maybe the bard was just overthinking things.

“Anyway, you won’t be just standing there, will you? You should relax every once in a while as well. Especially after such journey back here.” The bard beckoned his friend to hop into the hot water. “You have to tell me what you’ve found. Any news about Ciri?”

The invitation was accepted by the older one. Muscular body slowly crawled into the water and as soon as it submerged, the muscles relaxed. Scarred hands extended to the sides, taking a lot of personal space. Dandelion had to move a little bit and while the personal space was preserved, they were both in front of each other, which was equally bad for his heart. He thought he could pass out at any moment should Geralt keep on staring at him. But then he tried to focus on something else and the myriad scars on the witcher’s skin caught his attention. He knew stories for most of them, some were fresh and that built up curiosity. Also, he had a growing urge to run his digits along them but that was best to remain a daydream.

“I believe I should be asking questions here. And my only question is: why did you summon me here?” the intensity of Geralt’s facial expression was evidently caught by Dandelion. The question alone made his heart sink deep underwater.

“I know you have pressing matters to attend to, but how about you take it easy today? Relax here, have some drinks back in the tavern. And then we can get down to business. How does that sound for you because, personally, I love the idea.” Gestures followed his suggestion but they were rather frantic. As if he could disclose the real reason right off the bat.

The white wolf let out a sigh but gave it a thought. He had forgotten for a moment that life had some pleasures too and that it had been a long time since he could allow himself to indulge into any of them. One evening, that is all he needed.

“…alright. But let’s head back now. Because I am really eager to listen to you excuses and the shit you got yourself into.” He had to brace himself for the worst and there was no knowing with Dandelion. Especially lately.

“Ah—you go right ahead, friend. I just need to finish up something here.” And that something was imminent death of his ego that was going to happen later. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Dandelion’s urging was followed by a crooked glance by Geralt. Yet there was no complaint from him and soon he was on his way out. The bard watched his friend leave, eyes soaking in the view in front of him. Checking out ladies passing by was one thing, but it was completely different to feast his eyes on his best friend’s physique; another thing he cursed himself for.

“I’m so done for” the bard bid himself farewell and then shoved his head underwater for a few seconds. After the refreshing dive he too wobbled back to the tavern. He may have stayed in the bath for too long…

\----------------------------------------------------

The inn was chirping with voices and music. People were having the time of their lives while bards sung about dreamy and virtuous deeds in the background. The witcher stepped I to the scene looking kind of irritated and while ordinary folk would not notice the change from his usual brooding face, his friends did. Zoltan, usually leaning against a wooden beam sprung away from it as soon as the white wolf entered his sight.

“Well? Did you find Dandelion? I’d expected he’d come back with you.” The dwarf inquired not being too concerned about their mutual friend.

“I did. It’s impossible to miss him when he is flocked by women.” A jest from Geralt’s side. “He decided to stay there for a while longer. I have no idea what he’s scheming this time…”

“Ah, that really ain’t like him. “ a hand rose to tge shorter man’s chin to rub it in a thought. “Well, anyway, you best not think too much if he said he’d explain things or something, I take. Have a seat by a table. I’ll get something for us to drink in the meanwhile.

With a simper, Geralt moved to an empty table and took a seat. He placed both of his hands on the sturdy wooden table and as he waited, he let his fingers quietly dance around on the surface. He couldn’t help but think why would Dandelion be so distraught by his presence. He hadn’t done anything wrong, right? Unless, this summoning wasn’t anything about a favor or anything but some important news that were hard to break through? Nevertheless, it was a bit discouraging to see his best friend to seem so distant back there. He will definitely find the root of that.

The train of thought was interrupted when a tankard hit the surface in front of the man. His cat-like eyes glanced and tracked his friend’s movements.

“Only the best ale for you, friend. Good to have you around, even if it is just for a while.” Zoltan rose his tankard up for a toast. “Cheers!”

“Here’s one to you too.” While Geralt’s expression was more timid, he picked up his ale in a joyous manner as well and clinked it against the other’s.

The two chatted for a while, or rather Zoltan was the talkative one and Geralt just listened as he enjoyed his beverage. The witcher even spurred his friend to play a round or two of Gwent even if both of them knew the outcome before the games had begun. In the midst of a match their troublemaker of a friend entered the room. He seemed to be slightly frantic as his eyes were jumping from one person then the other. He relaxed only when his eyes found his witcher friend who was conveniently sitting right behind a wooden pole. But there was no mistaking that white hair.

“Keeping yourselves busy?” Dandelion looked at the cards from above, srudying the situation. “Has Zoltan won at least a game?”

“Shut yer mouth, or I swear I’ll—” the dwarf snapped back without drawing his attention away from the cards in his hand. “I’m working on it!”

“He’s taking his time—Maybe one day he’ll beat me. But only time will tell.” A small smile was creeping up his lips as he threw a card down, sealing his victory. “How about we leave it at that tonight? I am sure someone wants to join in the chat.”  
Despite the dwarf being annoyed at himself for facing consecutive losses within the game, he agreed that it was time to stop. Short hands stretched upwards making a heavy sigh escape Zoltan. His lips smacked a few times, indicating tiredness. He also had his fill of drinks tonight.

“Ye know what? I’ll be leavin’ now. I need my beauty sleep and all as they say. Nice drinking with ye, Geralt.” Slowly he pushed his body upwards and stood up. His legs wobbled just a little bit but he still managed. “I’ll see you two tomorrow.”

“See you, Zoltan. Take care.” Rough voice wished well. Meanwhile Dandelion offered only a hand wave.

Tension rose just as the dwarf left. Geralt motioned for the bard to take a seat to have a chat but he refused.

“No. Let us talk privately, upstairs. I’d want no prying eyes when we talk.” Surprisingly, Dandelion could sound serious as well and that caught the other off-guard as well.

With a sideways look Geralt took the request to heart and stood up from his seat. His hand motioned forward, urging the other to lead the way. Unsuspectingly, the witcher followed in other’s steps. The sounds of creaking steps shrouded Dandelion’s heartbeat from the hunter’s keen hearing. To make sure that no one would hear their talk, the two moved to the balcony. It was getting dark so only the faint light coming from the room lit their faces enough to see one another.   
Some folk would have appreciated such invitation for privacy as the setting was actually blatantly romantic no matter how you saw it. But the underlying pretense was being missed by the witcher for he was rather tipsy. Dandelion felt a bit disappointed they won’t be able to have a clear conversation, yet at the same time, it made him feel a bit more at ease. In case of failure, he could just brush it off as a weird drunkard’s dream or alike. 

“You better tell me everything, Dandelion.” Geralt started as he made sure he was leaning against the railing firmly. His head was lifted upwards to soak in the colours of the evening sky.

The bard’s palms clasped together for a moment before he decided to cast his gaze into the city view. He didn’t exactly had this part planned out, or rather, he thought he could only slip a letter into Geralt’s room and be done with it. Alas, he was confronted. He tried to catch a glance of the witcher’s profile every now and then, which made him no calmer. It was as if cat had got his tongue. The silence delivered was not making the other one’s patience last longer. A rough and low sigh escaped the monster hunter as he leaned forward only to shift close to his friend. Geralt’s keen eyes tried to examine the silhouette of Dandelion’s face, his expression. 

“Must we play a game? How do they call it – “a hundred questions” - or something?” another urge from the older man which made the bard face him. “I am not used to your silence and it makes me miss your voice… sometimes.”

The bard’s lips pried open just for a bit before he let out a shy chuckle. That was one of those rare times where he got a compliment from his friend, or so he thought.

“Oh, wow, Geralt, that’s a first. What’s next, you’re going to praise my voice? But of course you needn’t for we all know that I have the most--”

“But I do.” Three words that made Dandelion get stuck on his thoughts. And they sounded sincere, as if the witcher meant it.

Dandelion couldn’t play this charade and longer. After all, this meeting was supposed to set things straight. But there he was getting mixed signals and being unsure how to take it. The exasperated sigh helped to change the mood and start things over.

“Okay, listen. I will ask you this one and only time so you better listen.” A determined look adorned Dandelion’s face as he looked down at Geralt who was still leaning into the railing. “Are you playing with me? No, of course you do. I am just an annoying bard to you, right? The one who is akin to a damsel in distress and then you get a laugh out of it. Or is there something else, something that compels you to stay with me despite it all?” 

Geralt lowered his head making his face be hidden by white strands of hair. After the intense monologue his digits begun to twitch against his sleeves. At first, his eyes tried to seek out an answer within the city drowning in night’s colours but no wisdom was found there.

“Isn’t this what friends do?” he hesitantly answered a question with another, trying to poke the waters. “You are my friend whom I trust and care for. I hate that you get yourself into shit you shouldn’t be in but I will always be there to help you.”

“A friend… I see.” There was clearly disappointment in Dandelion’s voice but he had his answer. 

“But—”

“Oh don’t go giving me hope now, Geralt. You can all too well imagine what I am asking you. But I see where you’ve laid your heart. And you know what? It’s fine. This is all I wanted from you. You can leave now and I would only wish you a pleasant journey. And do no—”

Geralt clenched his palms into fists the more he listened to Dandelion. He had a hard time conveying his feeling and expressing his thoughts that were already jumbled up. But if he was told to leave then he would comply.

“Alright. I’ll leave tomorrow. Goodnight, Dandelion.” With those words the witcher left the balcony and made his way one floor down to his room.

Bitterness filled Dandelion’s taste buds as he watched Geralt leave with no hesitation. It was almost as if he went through five stages of grief. Except all at once. Could he do something about it anymore? After all, he was the one to shove the witcher away and left no room for explanation. But his body acted on its own while his mind was fighting itself. 

As if from the shadows, two silk-covered arms slowed wrapped around Geralt’s shoulders, preventing him from turning the door handle. 

“What are you doing?” a question escaped but it received no vocal answer.

The hug from behind got only tighter in response. Dandelion being bold, he buried his face into the white hair. His breathing slowed down and he became weirdly at ease. Perhaps because he only had such scenarios in his head as dreams.  
But dreams do not lie, or so do they say.

“I’ve had a dream time and time again…” the bard muttered. “A dream of us being together and for once me not being a nuisance to you—”

“You barely ever were, though.” Geralt interrupted and tried turning his head just a little bit but he could only barely catch a glimpse of the other’s locks. The man smiled to himself, believing that at the moment Dandelion was maybe being a bit cute with his bashfulness.

“Damn it, Geralt. Why is it now that you take my gift of speech away? You are almost something reverse of a muse. But at the same time you are all I know in my head.” The bard released the hold on the other, his hands slid off the armored shoulders as if they wanted to have a memory of the texture. Then he took a few steps back with his head kept low to conceal the fact that he was indeed flustered.

As soon as Geralt was given the freedom to move, he turned around and leaned against the door guarding it. It gave the liberty of having control of the situation in the end but now his curiosity was piqued and he had no intentions of leaving. 

“Well, I am here listening. The stage is yours to the audience of one.” Leather guarded hands motioned towards the other, encouraging him to speak.

After a few blinks blue frightful eyes met with the golden cat-like ones. He could truly see that he wasn’t being made fun off and was given the room to express himself. The toughest performance of his life was commencing.

“… the dream. It always felt real and it always was the same. You would come back here from somewhere, I do not know, and catch me off guard with some name or… something like that.” The bard’s hands moved in a circular motion as he tried to remember how he was addressed but it had vanished in a smoke. “Then you’d lay down your swords in your stash, feeling as the weight of the world has fallen off your shoulders and—and I remember clearly that you were happy being in my company. I do not know if I’ve ever seen you look so sincerely happy before. Maybe when you are with Yen—” words had begun failing him once more when he remembered the obstacle that was Yennefer. Dandelion knew he had no chances and just allowed his hands fall to the sides in defeat. “I imagine you know the connotation of this dream and I do not need to say more. Unless you want to have more material to poke fun at me with then by all means I may tell you the rest.”

Geralt’s head tilted to the side and then made a nod. That was a lot to unpack when it was voiced like so and he owed at least some answer instead of silence.

“The name you cannot remember you being called with is Jaskier.”

“I didn’t think you would actually know other languages and I thought it was just a figment of my imagination. Wait… that means “buttercup”, as in the flower, does it not?”

“I see you know your stuff. Makes it easier for me.” Witcher’s lips showed a small smile.

“Studies at the Oxenfurt University were not all in vain.” Dandelion shrugged his shoulder and then looked at the other with more confidence. “I can understand the pet names you’re giving me and that is more than enough value to me.”

“I was hoping you would.”

“Even if there was a chance that I would not, I still appreciate it for it is something that seems like a gift from you to me. Geralt of Rivia being sugary with his words is not something I should pass upon. I shall take the utmost honor in that.” As always the bard exaggerated his words but in reality he couldn’t just sincerely tell the other that he loved the nick name. “But wait wait, hold on—”

Suddenly it begun to click into places. The dream that Dandelion saw never took place in reality so how did Geralt knew of the details..? 

“What? You’re gonna ask how I know the name I used for you?” a question to which Dandelion only nodded with his eyes wide. “I use it all the time in my head. I found it fitting and—”

“Have you got nicknames for all of us?” a careful question just for clarification.

“No.”

“Wait, does that mean--? No, there is no way you could ever see me that way. I should perish the though. You and Yennefer are together and everyone with their child and dog knows about this. You chasing her all around just proves it. And the way you look at her is just more solid proof for that. After all, ballads ought to stay true, the ones about a white wolf yearning for the raven’s company and embrace.” Dandelion begun to frantically think out loud as he paced around the room. He was speaking maybe even too fast for himself even at the times.

Geralt let out a low sigh as he pushed himself off the door and moved towards Dandelion. His hands caught the other by his shoulders and made them face each other. The bard let out a gasp when he felt weird on his shoulders. 

“Jaskier,” Geralt addressed the bard with the name only the two knew, signaling that he was serious. “Can you forget Yennefer for once in this conversation? It’s not about me and her, nor it will ever be. And here I thought you’d have it easy given your experience with women. Where did your charm go?”

“Well it’s different now! To begin with, you’re not an easily charmed lady that becomes a fleeting memory after a while. You—you are you and I do not want to half-ass it! I want for you to know that I care for you. Always did. Always will and more than just a friend. I—”

“You are hesitant because I’m a man as well?” valid point which was shoved to the side by alcohol and the spur of a moment. But then Geralt wasn’t exactly ignorant; he’s lived for many years and seen his share of experience to know better than to oppose such things. “Are you scared for your reputation?”

The ever so talkative lips pursed together in a thought. His eyebrows knitter together in anger for his own self, for his foolishness. He loved the thought of being together with Geralt but could they actually do it?

“No… I am not that vain.” Blue eyes were still cast downwards at the witcher’s medallion in front of him. “You know how it is with me and love affairs. You deserve better than that.”

“You’re going to defy the dream you saw? You know it could be the future if you chose to let it happen.”

“Should I take that as encouragement? You’re always so cryptic!” Dandelion pouted just a tiny bit.

“You expect to have me standing here all night?”

Dandelion’s hands creeped upon Geralt’s sides, pulling them closer together. The scars on the witcher’s face always mesmerized him. It hurt to see them multiplying but also they suited the seasoned hunter. And even those people deserved to be showered with affection, and the bard was full off it, even more than ever. He wished to reach for all the scars and trace them with his lips, to remember their texture. 

“Let’s make the night ours then. I’ll show you how the dream ended.” His usual carefree look was gone. Eyes glistened with determination and fierce passion for the other. 

Just for a mere moment Geralt expressed surprise on his face which could be barely ever seen. The man still had his doubts and they were rightfully deserved. His mouth pried open but no sound came out of it. His gold eyes glanced away from the other’s face in remorse. 

“Dandelion, listen…” if not for his usual demeanor of being silent, one could claim that the witcher was struggling with words. “There are many things that you must understand first.”

The bard, seeing his friend’s face, backed off without a question. Sure, he was deeply upset but it was nothing that he could not mask as usual. He bit his lower lip in order not to say something stupid (again) and directed his gaze to the floor.

“I believe I am aware of many dangers and what not, but pray tell me.” Dandelion spoke back with a hint of disdain. It was tiresome at the times for him to be treated like this useless idiot. He wasn’t anything like that and he wished for people to realize.

Recomposed, Geralt looked at the man in front of him in utmost seriousness. He took his time to look at Dandelion and ask himself many questions. But it was in his nature to push everyone away. He simply did not know any better.

“I do not need anyone to look after me. And the last thing I want is someone needing me. This thing between us? I’m sure it’s just you being you as always so I do not—”

“Just me being me, is that it?” there was no way those words would get past Dandelion. They really wounded him because the love he felt for all the people was real and the one he had for Geralt was unmatched. “You think I’d just discard you after a night, just leave you to your own devices?”

Once gentle hands became tense as they clenched behind the bard’s back. He did not wish to lash out at the other but he was very close and that could be noticed through his roughed up breath. Geralt did not offer any form of response for he was busy thinking how to get the best out of this situation. Especially after seeing that his friend was upset. There was always a way out for the witcher as he was guarding the door but he was no coward. He clearly did not comprehend such intense emotions as well as he should. 

Geralt wanted to be lead, to be shown what is out there. Sometimes even he yearned compassion and love from someone, albeit never showed it. But at the same time he was afraid because whomever decide to follow him wind up in despair eventually. Also, he guarded himself from the thought that someday he’d meet a human he loved only later to be split apart by death. But his hesitance never meant that he did not love anyone. In fact, if he allowed for someone to be with him for as long as Dandelion has – he truly loved them. 

The two were inseparable or at least they eventually would wind up meeting and such occurrence was an often one. 

“I never said that—”

“Oh I know you did mean it like that! All of you think I am a womanizer and naught more. And you know what—keep at it. I do not care anymore. All of you go on your own ways anyway and remember me only when I am useful.” Dandelion spike harshly but still did not look Geralt in the eye. He avoided looking at the other so much, he decided to go back to the balcony as he couldn’t leave the room. “Go. You have a long trip back tomorrow after all.” The bard’s voice softened into a bittersweet melody. 

A sigh rung through the room. There was probably more truth in Dandelion’s turmoil than Geralt wanted to admit. Lately he had been distant with the bard, tunnel visioning onto his goal and secluding himself outside of work matters and alike. There had been a time where the two chatted without much of a care and he missed that. 

The witcher’s quiet steps carried him to the open balcony door. He leaned against the door frame at first, thinking that he should be cautious.

“I am not leaving you like this.” The raspy voice showed determination.

“Ah, so you are going to mess with me then? Oh, what a joyous day for me indeed!” sarcasm was spilling through along with the quiet tears the bard shed. 

Dandelion held himself somehow by watching people come and go bellow the balcony. It was a better distraction than anything he could have had. After a short moment he took off his beret to fidget with it in his hands. His fingers ran along the edges of the feather in a slow motion repeatedly with an urge to break it. The tears had begun falling down onto his fingers which he then dried into velvet he held in his hands. 

“No.” Geralt shook his head. “I’m not.” 

Losing patience, the bard could barely hold his tears back. The witcher could hear a sharp inhale from the other. The last thing he wished for is for Dandelion to end up in tears. Were humans always so fragile, so easy to lose in emotions? While Geralt was not void of them, he could not grasp everything and he needed to hear things directly. 

“Well, nothing matters anymore because you’ve told me your answer. “ the bard peaked through his shoulder back to where the other was standing. He couldn’t see clearly through the tears gathering. “Leave a heartbroken man be. You don’t even know how much it hurts.”

Witcher’s cold demeanor was a curse. He couldn’t express himself and his approach to life had left him with the lack of words. Or perhaps he was afraid to say some.

The white haired man moved out of the doorway towards the balcony railing. He leaned against it next to the bard and remained silent. Despite being upset with Geralt, Dandelion’s heart skipped a beat when they got close again. And it wasn’t even his initiation. Cat-like eyes watched the other person standing there with emotions contained but leaking slowly. Glistening eyes had completely captured the witcher and his body moved on its own. A hand slowly rose up to run through brown locks, trailing down to the teary face. The back of his hand wiped away a running down tear and then carefully stroked Dandelion’s cheek. 

The bard was caught off-guard. He was so deep in his thoughts that he did not notice Geralt playing with his hair but the touch against his skin woke him up. Blue eyes tiredly rose up to focus on the other’s face, or at least what could be seen in the dim light. His lips pried open but then closed with his gaze dropping again.

“I don’t get you, Geralt. One moment you entice me and the other – you blatantly push me away, telling that you’re better off alone. And now you are showing me your tender side—What do you want in the end?” the soft voice shook slightly as the man was trying to calm his tears but the confusion was making it only worse. “You can’t be one who behaves this way with friends. So tell me… Tell me what is it that you think right now. I cannot read minds like Yen or Triss would. I must trust you to tell the truth.”

Geralt was put on the spot again but this time he couldn’t escape. His body language gave away his true heart’s desire but it was his words that were struggling. At first he only let out a short grunt as he was thinking. But the more he stayed there looking at Dandelion, the more he knew that he couldn’t push any of this away.

“A long time ago you had asked me what I want from life. And earlier I said I needed no one, that I wanted no attachment. I cannot be like one of those women you used to see before, nor will I’ll ever be. But I am drawn to you. I pray that it isn’t some sort of a spell or even a curse you’ve cast on me out of desperation.“

“I cannot believe you are even casting such doubts on me. Curses? Enchantments? Who do you take me for? Gods, Geralt, you are unbelievable sometimes.” Dandelion raised his voice in frustration. “How must I assure you that I love you unconditionally on my own accord?”

“You do not have to, Jaskier. You’ve done enough.” Even if the words sounded rough, Geralt pulling the bard into an embrace proved that there was a lot more going on in his heart.  
It was a simple gesture to ease the tension between them. The witcher pressed Dandelion close to his chest and let the others head rest on a shoulder comfortably. One hand remained on bard’s waist while the other gave pats on the head. The brown strands of hair were tangled between Geralt’s digits from the breeze gracing the two of them. 

The purple beret that Dandelion held flopped onto the wooden floor as his hands relaxed. A wave of warmth flushed over the bards face when he chose to bury it in the white wolf’s shoulder. Maybe it was his eagerness that made him fall to this situation; he should have known not to rush things. And maybe it was his pride that got in his way – he thought he knew his beloved oh so very well but he was more focused on himself in the long run.  
But a change was happening.

Silent tears kept on rolling down Jaskier’s cheek. He was becoming less and less sad, more bittersweet. But each stroke on his head just made him fuzzy inside and he didn’t want to go anywhere. He felt stronger in such an embrace and his hands finally rose up to wrap his hands around Geralt’s waist. 

“Are you going to stay like this for long?” the witcher asked with a hint of playfulness. One that very few could catch. “I didn’t take you for a cuddly type.”

Dandelion let out a chuckle as he let his hands slip away and that way breaking their embrace. His usual smile had returned once more and Geralt was glad that he could see it again. That was the bard he knew and fell in love with but he was prepared to accept and treasure any other side of him.

“Do you know anybody who would pass upon an opportunity to be held in your arms? I certainly do not and if there was a chance again – I’d take it in a heartbeat.” While Jaskier jested back at the other, his thoughts were absolutely serious.

The white haired man’s lips curved just a little bit. He took Dandelion’s words to heart. With a sigh filled with amusement, he crossed his arms on the chest and looked down upon the other. Those golden eyes were piercing right through the bard and he felt his heart throb. Dandelion had almost let his mind loose and barraged Geralt with the sweetest but at the same time most indecent words. However, some things had to be left for later. 

“…don’t look at me like so.” Bard’s blue eyes couldn’t help but find some other place to focus on than his beloved’s eyes. “It’s almost like you’d be thinking that you’ve caught me like some sort of a pray.”

“But I have. Just look at yourself.” There was no hesitance in witcher’s voice. He only leaned forward. The distance between them was minimal and either of them could take the opportunity to kiss the other.

Dandelion felt the other man close, too close. But this attention was intoxicating and he couldn’t say no. Their eyes met in an intense gaze without a word being said. It was Geralt’s intention to provoke the bard, to see how he truly acts with his lovers. Lips parted right after he teasingly brushed them against witcher’s. The first kiss was rather tentative as it still felt weird to be open about these feelings Jaskier had held onto for years. 

Geralt broke off the kiss and let out a huff. He clearly was out of touch but that did not mean that he wanted to just stop there. And knowing that he will have to part ways with his lover the next day, he wished to spend the night together.

“Oh—Wow, Geralt, I’m speechless.” Dandelion tried calming his heart but he was just full of amazement; he still could not grasp the idea that he was accepted. He soon wore the brightest smile on his face while his cheeks were blushing in deep red. But fortunately for him, that couldn’t be seen because it was dark outside.

There was no response from the white wolf. He only carried himself indoors into the light. Dandelion had no choice but to follow him as soon as he picked up his beret from the floor. While the bard was closing the balcony’s door Geralt was making himself comfortable without a care in the world. Perhaps the alcohol they had earlier still carried some effect. 

“I see you’re feeling like you’re at home.” Dandelion commented as he paced around the room, lighting up more candles. His beret was once again resting on his head as well.

“You mind?”

“Absolutely not! Don’t even ever ask.” 

The witcher watched his beloved be meticulous with things but there was one thing that bothered him. With quiet steps, he sneaked up Dandelion and snatched the hat, throwing it away on a nearby chair. Then he ran his hands through those brown locks again for he couldn’t get enough of that.

“Geralt..?”

“Hm… I think you should wear those hats less.” A low voice hummed into Dandelion’s ear.

“Well, I think you should wear your armor less but here we are.”

Geralt curiously looked at the other, then backed off. While the bard finished with the last candle and blew off the match his lover was already removing his chestpiece. Dandelion couldn’t keep his eyes off that roughed up body. Scars were painful to look at, however, they were also a reminder of all the struggles they went through together. Some instances he remembered word-to-word, some memories had turned into songs.

“Since when do you take requests from mere bards?”

“Since the day I met you.” The witcher turned around with his chest bare. After a deep inhale he crossed his arms.

Jaskier pouted to himself as he gave the other a side glance. He couldn’t recall Geralt being smooth with words. Caring? Sure. Maybe some of his artistry has rubbed off. To an extent, he felt proud. But then he also felt the need to one-up him.

“Ah, so now you think that you’re suave, hm?” with each word Dandelion took a step closer to the other man. “You are absolutely right if so, I love when you’re more open like this. What are you going to say next? How else will you make my heart sing?”  
Seasoned hunter’s hands rose up and untied Dandelion’s ascot’s knot, exposing the man’s neck more. The bard guided the other’s hands with his as each of the buttons were undone in a slow manner. The accessories that he wore were frustrating the witcher as he couldn’t grasp the use for them; function over fashion. Jaskier noticed it more this time, the tingling sensation upon their skin coming in contact. It was weird, new but it was intriguing. 

The clothes slid off bard’s slender figure and fell down on the floor. Geralt let out a hum and then tugged the other closer, guiding them two to the lone bed in the room. Together they fell down onto the bed side to side. Perhaps it was his way of showing his playfulness. Dandelion yelped quietly when he hit the bedsheets but the landing was soft because witcher held him close.

“You’re warm, Jaskier.” Geralt murmured as he relaxed his embrace a teeny bit so there would be space for them to look into one another.

“Who knew you could be so cute yourself—” a gentle hand graced the other’s muscular hand and traced along the scars on it. 

They finally had a moment of peace for themselves even if they knew very well that it wouldn’t last long. With that thought lingering on Geralt’s mind, he let out a sigh and closed his eyes. Laying comfortably like so made him feel tired. Attentively, Dandelion stared at his lover’s features and soon after he couldn’t help but plant a kiss on the scar beneath witcher’s left eye. When the eye opened slightly to take a peak, bard sheepishly grinned and tugged a falling strand of his hair behind an ear.

“Tired already? I thought you’d be more eager—” a taunt escaped Dandelion.

“I’m sparing you. You couldn’t keep up in your current state.” With a headshake, Geralt closed his eye again, preparing to rest.

“So you teased me up to this point and now you’re going to leave it be like that?”

“I’m leaving something to look forward to next time we meet.”

“Next time…” bard laid down again without letting Geralt escape his sight. “Promise me. Promise me you’ll come back or at least let me know. Any message is fine, I’ll be there no matter how far.” His hands embraced the witcher and pulled his head to chest. 

The heartbeat heard by keen ears was akin to a lullaby. Geralt’s breathing slowed down as he snuggled in against the other. The last thing he heard before he drifted into sleep was a gentle melody he had heard before yet he couldn’t name it. Probably because some unheard before lyrics followed the tune. He made a mental note to ask about it the next morning.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

Dandelion was sleeping in rather deep and got woken up only by the sun gracing his cheek. He slowly opened his eyes and yawned into the bedsheets. He had to push his upper body to sit up and tiredly look around the room. Finding that he was alone in the room made him question whenever what he remembered was a dream or reality and Geralt had left the premises already. But upon looking better he noticed that some of witcher’s items were still present and his own clothing was sprawled on the floor, the way his memory served. 

When a breeze touched his face, Dandelion looked towards the balcony door which was pried open. Soon his witcher came through it, rubbing his face from sleep.

“I see you’re awake already.” The groggy man greeted and then closed the door with a click. 

“You could have woken me up, you know. I don’t bite—”

“Judging from your sleep talk, I’m led to believe otherwise. You sure had some interesting ideas such as biting m—” before Geralt was about to spill all the embarrassing details of what he heard, Dandelion had to stop him.

“Okay that is enough. I’m sure we both know everything.” He maintained the eye contact so he wouldn’t be seen as a coward but also he was embarrassed and he did not want anything repeated to him. Not while he’s sober.

“Hm…” the witcher gave a small smile. “Then tell me something else…”

Before continuing Geralt sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at Jaskier who was equal parts intrigued and confused.

“What was that song you hummed to me last night? I’ve heard it before but with different words…”

It took only a mere second for the bard to recollect the song. It was something that he sung only to himself before, to calm his yearning heart, while it was addressed to Geralt. It was a love letter in a song, it was a thanks written in a poem.

“That..? Ah, right. A love song, to put it bluntly. It was telling you about how much I owe to you and how much I love you. “

“Will I’ll hear it again?”

“When you’ll come back to me safe and sound. When you’ll come through my doorstep I’ll be waiting for you with it.”

The witcher opened his mouth as if to say something but then no sounds came out and instead he looked away. He couldn’t hold any promises and that was what pained him the most. But if anything would happen to him, he wished to hear Dandelion once more.

“I know, don’t say a word.” A sigh broke the silence. “Before you leave… There is one thing I’d like to do.”

“What is it?”

“Let’s get dressed. I’ll tell you.”

Geralt stood up with a grunt as he was still feeling sluggish. Jaskier was rather quick to get out of the bed to pick up his items from the floor. He always took a bit longer due to his rather obnoxious fashion taste. Meanwhile witcher was to the point so in the end he had to wait a bit.

Once ready, Dandelion looked at the other from head to toe with a questioning look. Yes, he’s definitely keeping to his idea.

“I’m not letting you go like that.” He commented vaguely. 

“You’re not dressing me in any of that.” Geralt gestured towards Dandelion’s purple attire but he only got a head shake in response.

“No, no, nothing like that! Just… Take a seat.” A chair and a desk were behind them and were gestured at. With a quiet glare his request was followed through. 

Geralt sat down comfortably and looked at the other who was picking up a hair comb from the desk. The bard untied the messy white hair and begun to nonchalantly comb through it.

“Really? This is it?” 

“That’s all, yes. Now stay still or else I’ll make it worse.”

Bewildered, the white haired man sat still and waited, sometimes flinching at his hair being tugged. Dandelion was focused on his work. Despite Geralt’s age, his hair was in amazing condition. In his mind, he joked how maybe it was the monsters’ blood and guts that made it so smooth and lush. In the middle of process, the bard begun humming the same song as he did last night.

Geralt wasn’t giving it much of a thought but when the tune reached his ears, he smiled better than usual. Shame Dandelion wasn’t able to see it as he was busy braiding the white locks. The style was inspired by Skelligan ideas and had a couple of braids going from one side of the head and then a large braid almost at the top while the rest of the hair was let loose.

“And that’s that. There is a mirror on your right just a bit further.” Dandelion gestured to the side. 

Geralt looked upwards from where he was sitting, enchanting the poor bard with his eyes again. This time the look on his face was unreadable and Jaskier begun to worry; his fingers begun to fidget behind his back.

“Come closer.” Witcher said in a lower tone. Curiously, the other man leaned down only be caught in a trap to receive a kiss. Because it was so sudden the bard ended up turning red but the tint could also be seen on Geralt’s cheeks, albeit not as much.

“You’re welcome.” Dandelion chuckled. But his happy face shifted into a mellow one when his lover stood up. He knew it was time to part for god knows how long. “And good luck. I’ll be waiting for news.”

“Dandelions…”

“Huh?”

“If you’ll get them, know that I’ll be around soon.”

Such a silly idea but it carried myriads of sentimental value so he couldn’t say no.

“But what if—”

“You’ll get them. Just wait.”

Geralt made his way to the exit door when Dandelion grabbed his hand and tugged it towards himself. The hunter turned around to see the bard sad but then the hand was let go.

“Please go. You must. Don’t mind me, I’ll be fine as usual!” he tried to stay cheerful. Geralt grabbed the door handle and turned it. Before he close it behind himself he confessed properly.

“I love you, Jaskier.” And then before he got anything back, left to journey onwards.


End file.
